I KNOW WHERE MY HOME IS

Watching from the bedroom window stars shooting street lights, headlights constellations.
Straining to hear the ghost cries of feline confrontations
As Dad’s in his shed fixing the hoover and putting up shelves for his endless
spades shovels nails drill-bits buckets fence stain and long lost once loved mugs
An Aladdin’s cave of every Homebase in the UK.
Take me back to these days.
Brothers made of brothers mates,
Sunshine blossoming garden days
rushing from school to find you laid on the grass, trousers rolled up to tan your calves.
Evenings spent in bedrooms reading, organising CD’s
Imagining my future of whatever my brother chose to be.
Fifty pence for my tops, take pride in the bath, finding your inhalers after indulging in laughs.
Sat talking on the stairs before being tucked into bed
Told off for singing, your palm pressed to my forehead
(love you sweetheart)
I sit at the window squinting to make street lights into stars
I know where my home is
It was in your heart.